Sarah
My entire world crumbles around . I feel like I’m six years old again, terrified and alone, but this ti with the horrifying knowledge that my father put there.
"What is he talking about?" I demand. My hands instinctively move to my stomach, protecting my unborn child as the truth about my own childhood unravels before . "What origin? What else have you been hiding from ?"
Dad’s face drains of all colors. For the first ti in my life, I see him truly afraid.
"Sarah, he is just trying to hurt you," he stamrs.
"Tell !" I scream, my voice breaking. "What about my childhood?"
Matthew steps closer to and I feel his arm around . I don’t move a muscle.
Dad looks at Rodrigo with pure hatred before turning back to . "Your mother... she couldn’t have children. We tried for years."
"What are you saying?" My voice sounds foreign to my own ears. "Are you not my real father?"
"I am your father!" Dad exclaims. "But..."
"But what?" I ask impatiently.
Dad looks down, not saying anything.
"Dad!" I cry out. I am not letting him slip away without giving real answers.
The shrill sound of sirens interrupts us.
The shed door bursts open as two police officers rush in, guns drawn. "Police! Everyone stay where you are!"
I barely register their presence.
"Sir, ma’am, I need you to step outside," one officer says firmly.
Matthew speaks up. "This man," he points to Rodrigo, "broke into our property and attempted to kidnap my pregnant wife."
The officers move swiftly, one securing Rodrigo while the other ushers us out of the shed. I stumble forward, my legs barely holding up. Outside, more police cars have arrived, lights flashing against the growing darkness.
"We need to continue this conversation," I tell my father as we are separated for questioning.
An hour later, after giving our statents, the police led Rodrigo away in handcuffs. He looks back at and smiles, making feel sick to my stomach.
"This isn’t over, princess," he calls out.
The officer pushes his head down as they place him in the back of the cruiser.
We gather in our living room – Matthew, Josh, my father, and I. The silence is suffocating.
"I need you to tell everything," I say.
Dad sinks into the armchair, suddenly looking decades older. "I am your biological father, Sarah."
"But?" I press.
"Your mother...Evelyn...well, she is not your real mother," he says.
I feel like the air has been sucked out of my lungs.
Not my real mother?
Everything inside twists. I stumble back, nearly collapsing onto the couch as Matthew grabs my hand, helping sit.
"What do you an?" I whisper.
"Like I said, she couldn’t conceive. We have tried everything with no luck. I was going to give up and accept the fact that I’d never have any children, but..." Dad sighs heavily.
"But what, Dad?" I ask.
Dad takes a deep, shuddering breath. "I was ho alone one day. Your mother and I had a fight again. She blad for not being able to impregnate her and stord out to stay with so friends. So I drank too much that night. Way too much."
His eyes dart around the room, avoiding mine. "Marishka was there. She’d been our housekeeper. She was beautiful, kind... she listened to talk about my problems that night."
I feel Matthew’s hand tighten around mine.
"One thing led to another," Dad continues, his voice barely audible. "I was drunk, lonely, desperate. We...I spent the night with her. It was a mistake, a terrible mistake. We both agreed it would never happen again."
My mind reels, trying to process what he’s telling .
"Three weeks later, she told she was pregnant." Dad looks at directly now, his eyes filled with tears. "With you, Sarah."
The room spins around . I grip Matthew’s hand like it’s my only anchor to reality.
"Marishka is your biological mother," Dad says. "Not Evelyn."
"And Mom, Evelyn, she knew?" I manage to ask through the tightness in my throat.
Dad nods slowly. "I confessed everything to her. I was prepared for her to leave , but instead...she suggested we raise you as our own. We made an arrangent with Marishka."
"An arrangent?" I repeat, the word bitter on my tongue.
Dad nods. "Marishka agreed to carry the pregnancy to term. Evelyn made her promise not to tell a soul that she was pregnant and made her give you to us."
"H-how...how did she convince her to do that?" I ask, my voice trembling.
Dad’s gaze drops to the floor again. "She paid her."
My heart sinks, a sharp pain ripping through my chest. "Paid her?" I echo.
"She offered Marishka a large sum of money, enough to help her family in Ukraine. Marishka agreed...reluctantly. But it tore her apart." His voice cracks, and he wipes at his eyes. "Don’t be angry at Marishka. She was desperate and Evelyn...I think she threatened her sohow. Marishka begged Evelyn to let her stay with you as your nanny and signed an agreent not to ever let the secret out."
I sit there, stunned with Matthew’s arms wrapped around . All this cannot be true! I lean against Matthew and take a deep breath.
"Is that why Mom hates ? Is that why she always treated like I was never good enough in her eyes?" I breathe.
Dad’s eyes brim with fresh tears, and for a mont, he can’t answer. Then he gives the smallest nod.
"Yes," he says hoarsely. "In the beginning, when you were a baby, Evelyn seed fine with it. But as soon as you started to grow into a young woman, she started to resent you. Not because you did anything wrong, but because every ti she looked at you, she saw my betrayal. She saw Marishka."
"So all that ti, she hated for sothing I had no control over." My voice cracks with each word.
"I tried to make up for it," Dad says quietly. "I tried to love you enough for both of us. I gave you everything you ever wanted."
I laugh bitterly. "Why didn’t she just give back to Marishka then? Why force herself to act like my mother?"
Dad sighs. "It was too late to do that. Everyone in our family and social circle thought Evelyn was the one who gave birth to you. If people found out your nanny is the real mother, there would’ve been a great scandal. It would’ve ruined our lives."
The room falls into an unbearable silence. My mind feels like it’s splitting apart, my emotions a chaotic storm that I can’t control.
"So, to save your reputation, you both decided to lie about everything," I say bitterly, my voice shaking. "You lied to , to everyone. And Mom hated because I was a living reminder of your mistake?"
"Sarah..." Dad begins, his tone pleading, but I cut him off.
"Don’t ’Sarah’ , Dad!" I shout, rising to my feet. "This wasn’t just so small secret! This is my life! My identity! I grew up feeling like I wasn’t enough, like I had to work twice as hard to earn her love. And now you are telling it was all because I was your mistake to cover up?"
Dad’s face crumples. "I didn’t know how to fix it," he admits quietly.
Tears blur my vision as I collapse back onto the couch. Matthew pulls close, his arms a steady comfort, but nothing can steady the chaos inside .
"Marishka loved as her own daughter because I was actually her daughter. How funny is that?" I whisper, my voice cracking.
Matthew strokes my back gently. "I think you should leave, Charles," he says grimly.
"I’m not going anywhere," Dad says quietly, his voice shaking. "Sarah, please, don’t push away. I need to explain—"
"No," I cut him off sharply, standing up again, feeling the urge to escape this conversation, this house, this reality. "There’s nothing left to explain. You can’t fix this with words."
The heaviness of the truth presses on , making it hard to breathe. My mother, who had been judging for lying to Matthew, was a big fat liar herself. All this feels like a cruel joke.
"I need to speak to Marishka," I mumble.
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